


Far From Home

by Tarlan



Category: Kung Fu: The Legend Continues
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-01
Updated: 2006-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-20 18:04:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Nickie is brutally attacked, Peter realizes how much he cares for his friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Far From Home

"So... what do you do exactly?"

Nickie sighed internally. This question always came up in a conversation eventually and he knew the glint of desire would disappear from the questioner's eyes the moment he gave an answer. He tried to delay the inevitable but she badgered at him with a look of feigned interest.

"I'm a medical examiner."

"Oh," she purred provocatively, "In a private practice?"

"No," he answered with a soft, nervous laugh. "In the Coroner's Office."

Nickie watched and, yes, there it was; the frozen smile with greed and lust dying from the eyes to be replaced with visible distaste. Although few people liked to be reminded of their own mortality -- and even less so when death might not necessarily occur from natural causes -- Nickie knew that the disgust came more from a monetary consideration. The Coroner's Office did not pay as well as the big hospitals or the lucrative private practices but the work had always fascinated him. From childhood he had wanted to be a 'cop' but he knew he did not have the right set of qualities needed to graduate from the Police Academy. What he did have, though, was a love of medicine and quickly realized he could fulfill both of his dreams at the same time by joining the Coroner's office.

"Oh... that must be very... interesting work."

Nickie tried to cover his embarrassment with a friendly grin. "Yes. Every body that comes in is a mystery I have to solve."

"Every... body," she stated with a fixed smile.

Nickie laughed nervously again. "I don't get that many live ones."

Distaste turned to abhorrence. "*Many* live ones?"

"Well," he laughed almost breathlessly, "there was this one--"

"I'm sorry," she interrupted, "but I need to go powder my nose."

"Oh... okay. I'll wait here for you. Did you want another drink?"

"Sure," she replied with a nervous twitch of her lips.

He watched her thread her way across the lightly crowded bar, admiring the swing of her ample hips. When she glanced back and spotted him watching her, she gave him a perfunctory wave but he could see her expression tighten and he hid that knowledge behind the friendly wave he gave in return. Despite what some people believed, he was not an idiot. He knew he would not be seeing her again this evening and, sure enough, he caught a glimpse of her slipping out the door into the hotel lobby. No doubt, if he happened to bump into her tomorrow, she would provide some semi-plausible excuse for why she ran out on him. They always did.

Nickie sighed again and slumped forward, nursing the remainder of his non-alcoholic drink and mentally congratulated himself for not ordering her a fresh one. The prices at the bar were outrageous, and she had been drinking a particularly expensive cocktail.

Nickie looked around the bar. With a convention of doctors in town, he thought he might find a little company following the daily lectures, even if only from those of his own profession but the majority of those present were only interested in treating the living rather than examining the dead. The rest of the patrons in the bar were shallow women looking for matrimony among the wealthy delegates as, once past medical school and internship, becoming a doctor tended to be a well paid and respected profession... unless you took on work with the Coroner's Office.

The best part of another hour passed before Nickie pushed up from his stool at the bar and made his way through the thinning crowd.

"Dr. Elder?"

Nickie turned on hearing his name, almost glad someone knew his name until he realized who had called him. He offered a smile nonetheless to the doctor who had made fun of him earlier in the evening. It seemed Dr. Ericsson believed there was nothing better for attracting female company than lording it over others and Nickie knew he was an easy target because, to use his own mother's words, he was painfully shy. The only time he felt comfortable around people was while doing his job because he knew his worth there. He knew he had a wealth of knowledge and that people cared to listen to what he had to say. On a personal level, though, he had no idea how to relate to others, leading to awkward silences or worse, meaningless babble pouring from his mouth that sent potential friends running. In truth, he could name only two or three people that he could even call friend and even they were little more than acquaintances. He did not 'hang out' with them beyond the occasional after work drink.

"Must make a pleasant change to be around the living," Ericsson exclaimed loudly, drawing in his small crowd who seemed to scent Nickie's blood.

Nickie grinned nervously, wondering where this would be heading this time. A few hours back, the conversation had touched far too closely on the subject of necrophilia for his liking. Just because he dealt with the deceased that did not mean he was sexually attracted to them. In truth, he very much preferred the living in that respect, finding nothing romantic about the touch of cold, dead flesh.

"One advantage in your line of work, I suppose, is that you don't have to warm up your hands before you grope them," the man laughed aloud at his own joke, egging others on to joining in with his laughter.

Nickie offered an awkward grin, head tilted down, eyes lowered but darting up to meet those of his so-called peers. He dropped his eyes before any one should catch his gaze and consider it a challenge to add more callous remarks.

"I have to go now," he stated and rushed away, only stopping when he reached the street outside the hotel. He let the cool evening air blow away some of the cobwebs from the smoky bar as he walked along the front of the hotel towards his car, pausing when he reached the edge of the building and slipping just inside the alleyway dividing this building from the next. He leaned back against the wall, falling into the shadows. Truthfully, he was glad it had not worked out as he knew it would be no different than his last time with a woman. As much as he liked them--their form, their smell, and the touch of their warm, soft skin--nowadays, his thoughts always returned to Peter and he recalled the embarrassment of calling out Peter's name as he came, much to the disgust of the less than desirous woman he had contacted through the 'singles' page. The light BDSM, which, thankfully, consisted of only mild spanking up to that point, suddenly became more violent as she struck at him over and over with her cane, calling him a pervert and various other names as he fled her apartment half-naked, clothes bundled in his hands. All he had gained from the experience was a dozen nasty bruises on his body and the knowledge that he was in love with one of his few friends... and a male friend at that... and no pick-up at a hotel bar was going to change that.

Deep in thought and with the rumble of traffic filling the air, he never heard anyone approach but a hard prod in the side made him jump and then go rigid as he looked down and caught the unmistakable sight of a gun barrel pressed against him. His eyes darted into the street only ten feet away, seeing the late-evening traffic of cars and people passing by and yet knowing he would find no one willing to come to his aid.

"Step into my office," a deep voice murmured, pulling on Nickie's arm while pushing the gun more solidly against his ribcage.

He had no choice but to obey, fear overwhelming him as his assailant urged him deeper into the dark alley that ran alongside the hotel. The man shoved Nickie roughly, pushing him ahead with less than encouraging digs of the gun into the small of Nickie's back. Away from the meager street lamps, shadows merged to form a seemingly impenetrable darkness and Nickie began to tremble in growing terror. Even if he gathered all his courage and shouted, no one would hear his call above the sound of the traffic.

One last shove sent him smacking into a wall in the deepest, darkest shadow at the far end of the alley. He felt the coldness of the rough brick against his hands and cheek, and he froze as the man calmly began to go through his pockets, pulling out his wallet and car keys. Nickie heard the rustle of his few remaining dollars being emptied from the wallet, almost wishing he had bought that expensive cocktail just so this man would have nothing; the notes were stuffed into a pocket. The jingling of his car keys seemed strangely loud in the darkness of the alley despite the low hum of the cars in the distance.

"Which one is it?"

"The-the blue one...parked up the street just round the next corner on the left."

"Okay. Thanks," the man replied almost cheerfully, and Nickie slumped in relief as the footsteps receded several paces, accompanied by triumphant whistling. Then he heard the man stop both walking and whistling. "A cop," he said flatly.

Nickie swallowed hard, knowing the man had spotted his ID in the wallet. "Technically, no. I'm-I'm a doctor."

"Medical Examiner. Hmm... But still a cop, and I hate cops. Looks like you'll be going to work on the wrong side of a body bag today, doc."

"Oh god!" Nickie whispered hoarsely. All of his career in the Coroner's office, he had dealt with the physical trauma of a crime but, until this moment, he had never truly understood the emotional side, often wondering what thoughts must have passed through a victim's head in those last few minutes of their life. Now he knew. His mind went into a blind panic, with all his basic Police training forgotten as the man stepped up close behind him once more, his hand pressing against Nickie's back, fingers splayed. Warm breath fanned over Nickie's left ear.

"But first, I'm going to give your replacement something more than a bullet-riddled corpse," he whispered almost seductively as his hand snaked around the front of Nickie's body and began to unzip his pants.

"No," he whispered in shock, understanding the man's intentions too late. He lashed out, smacking his head backwards into the man's face, drawing a howl of rage from his intended rapist. His own startled cry echoed around the alley and he slumped into the wall when, moments later, the butt of the gun came crashing down upon his head, stunning him with the intense pain.

Nickie felt the sting of a knife and the friction burn of material yanked from his body, felt the scrape of the delicate flesh of groin, hip, thigh and belly as he was turned and shoved face-first over a rough wooden crate. His head was swimming, eyes unable to focus as hands pulled apart his ass cheeks. Terrible pain speared into him from behind and he cried out but, just as suddenly, the intensity of the pain was gone, leaving a dull ache behind. The weight lifted from his back as the sound of a body hitting a dumpster reverberated around the dead-end alley. The slap of flesh on flesh and the familiar snap of bone preceded a pained howl and the sound of running feet receding into the distance.

Nickie slumped to the ground, confused and in pain, flinching when warm hands touched his face.

"Doctor Elder. Nickie. It is I, Kwai Chang Caine."

Nickie raised his eyes, trying to focus on the familiar face, and recognizing concern in the otherwise peaceful expression. "Peter's dad?"

"Yes."

The Shaolin priest cupped Nickie's cheek once more, and in a strangely detached way, Nickie could see the knowing eyes carefully assessing his injuries.

"I-I'm hurt." Caine nodded almost graciously, as if Nickie had not just uttered something totally stupid and obvious.

"I know. Let me help you."

Nickie looked at the offered hand in a daze; confused by what he ought to do but this was Peter's dad. This was a man who showed compassion and mercy to everyone he met, even his enemies. Nickie had met him on a few occasions and instinctively, he knew he would be safe with him. He reached out, allowing Caine to draw him to his feet, making no fuss as, gently, Caine pulled up his pants for him, the nimble fingers making short work of the fastenings.

"Come. Lean on me. I will take you to a hospital."

Nickie managed several steps in a daze before the words sunk in.

"No!" Nickie tried to pull away but Caine strengthened his hold on him. He could not hope to conceal the sexual assault from a doctor. How could he face anyone once they learned he had been beaten and raped? "Please. No hospital."

Caine seemed to consider this for a moment before acquiescing. "Then let me take you to the Ancient."

"The Ancient?" The word seemed familiar and Nickie recalled Peter saying that word in near reverence, remembering an old Chinese man whose physical frailty disguised amazing strength of body and spirit. "Yes... yes. The Ancient."

***

Peter stood in the empty training room and frowned having expected to find his father here even though it was still quite early in the morning. He had wanted to speak to his dad before heading down to the station mainly because Capt. Simms was climbing the walls after Nickie failed to respond to a call out this morning. Another medical examiner had been on duty but Johnson wanted to confer with Nickie over a few technical details before moving the body that an early morning jogger had discovered an hour ago. Peter had already been round to Nickie's address but no one had seen him since yesterday morning, though he gained a vital clue. Nickie had mentioned his plan to attend a series of lectures at the convention yesterday. It was too early in the day to track down anyone who might have seen him there. Maybe Nickie had struck lucky and found someone willing to 'play doctor' with him. Certainly, Peter could recall wandering into Nickie's office one day to find him checking through the 'singles' page in the hope of finding some female company. Remembrance of the conversation should have made him smile as he wondered if Nickie was still seeing the woman who was into a little light BDSM and yet, Peter had found the whole idea rather annoying. He should have advised Nickie against it but he could find only one reason within his heart for doing so -- jealousy -- and it took several days before he worked out that the jealousy was for anyone getting close to Nickie.

Against his better judgment, though mostly out of fear of Nickie discovering how Peter felt about him, he encouraged Nickie to contact her but Nickie seemed a little subdued a few days later, refusing to talk about it. Peter guessed it had not been quite the experience Nickie had been looking for at the time and was too embarrassed to say so, and Peter hated how much that pleased him. He had not wanted Nickie to find romance with someone else. He wanted Nickie to find romance with *him*.

Peter pulled his thoughts back under control before unbidden images of Nickie filled his head. He concentrated, instead, on his reason for seeking out his father. Alternative medicine was beginning to gain some acceptance within the medical community and, for this reason, his father had been asked to speak at the convention yesterday. Perhaps he had seen Nickie.

"Pop?"

Peter raised his voice a little as he looked up the stairs leading to the private areas, hoping he would not wake up the Ancient, Lo Si. He grinned as his father appeared at the top of the stairs, bounding up two at a time to meet him.

"Peter. I was expecting you."

"You were?" Peter frowned.

"Come... but you must remain silent for he is still sleeping."

"He?" Peter questioned but his father had already turned away and was moving down the narrow corridor to the room at the end, pausing by the door, and waiting for Peter to catch up before stepping inside the room. Peter stopped on the threshold, seeing the narrow bed with its hidden occupant. The Ancient was seated beside the bed with his back to the door, reading from a manuscript silently as he watched over the sick or injured person but he put down his parchment. Lo Si stood and turned to face Peter and his father, offering a small bow in greeting. Having shown his respect, Peter allowed his eyes to drift to the figure on the bed.

"Nickie?" He breathed aloud in shock. In three strides, Peter was beside the bed, looking down into the battered face, and seeing the bruise that ran across one side of his handsome face. "What happened?"

"He was attacked outside the hotel last night. I heard his cry and went to his aid."

"Shouldn't he be in the hospital?"

"He would not go, so I brought him here."

Peter sank down into the chair the Ancient had vacated and stared at his friend, having never seen Nickie so still. He was used to seeing Nickie's animated face, with intelligent blue eyes taking in everything at once, so excited and intrigued by everything around him, like a big puppy dog. Seeing him so still, with his face pale beneath the mottled bruising, was unnerving and Peter felt the rage grow within him even as he desperately sought to find his inner core of peace, just as his father had taught him all those years ago in the temple.

"Who did this?"

"A man who wanted his money and forced him into the alley beside the hotel so he could take it."

Peter nodded, recalling that there had been reports of a few incidents around the hotel over the past few days but no one had been hurt until now. The previous two victims had, quite simply, been scared into handing over whatever money was in their wallets and then sent on their way. Why was this time any different?

"Did he try to fight back? Refuse to hand over his wallet?"

"I... do not think so for I spotted his wallet lying on the ground. However, the attacker was planning to shoot him after..." His father's voice trailed off.

"After?"

Looking intently at a face blanked of all emotion, Peter knew he would gain no more out of his dad at this time. However, he had one more question.

"Did you catch the guy?"

"I let him go."

"Why?" Peter asked in disbelief.

"Because Nickie required my assistance."

Peter tightened his lips, knowing his father had made the right decision even though it meant Nickie's attacker--a potential killer--was now roaming the streets.

"However, this man is injured. I broke his arm, and Nickie had broken his nose."

Peter nodded, a wry grin curling his lips in the knowledge that Nickie had inflicted a little payback on the guy who had wanted to kill him.

"I'll let Captain Simms know I found Nickie. She's been looking for him."

"A homicide?"

"Yeah... that's usually why they need Nickie."

"I see. Then your concern does not also stem from your friendship... and desire."

Peter's eyes widened but then he sighed. He should have realized long ago that he could not hide anything from his father despite the fifteen years of separation.

"You don't have a problem with that?"

His father seemed pensive for a moment. "I would have wished for a different path for my son but... it is the path you are destined to take."

"I'm sorry."

Caine held up a hand. "Each of us must choose our own path, and I... do not have a problem with a path that will bring my son happiness." He laid his hand on Peter's arm, squeezing it gently. "Would it be wrong to mention that *he* has the same desires for you?"

"He does?" That shocked Peter as Nickie had always made remarks about wanting female company but then, so did he. He felt saddened to know they had both been trying to hide what they felt from each other, wasting so much time that they could have spent building a relationship stronger than mere friendship. "Call me when he wakes up."

His father smiled warmly, and knowingly. He nodded. "I will call."

Resisting the urge to reach out and touch Nickie, Peter turned away. He spared only a single backward glance before leaving the room, seemingly in deference to his father and the silent Lo Si but, in truth, they all knew that he wanted to check on Nickie one last time. He sighed heavily as he descended the stairs; hating to leave Nickie, even with his father but grateful that his secret was out in the open and fully accepted by his father. If only others would be as tolerant.

***

When Peter arrived back at the crime scene, he approached the attending M.E. who had still not released the body for transportation to the morgue. He missed seeing Nickie Elder squatted down beside the victim, watching his expressions change with each new train of thought as he examined the body. The wind would catch at his hair, leaving it in disarray, and leaving Peter with an urge to run his fingers through the brown strands to tidy them. Eyes full of compassion and dismay at the loss of life would find his and Nickie would come over, explaining what he had discovered so far, giving Peter a starting point in his investigation. Sometimes, Nickie's quaint naiveté would find a way of bringing a little levity to a terrible situation and those blue eyes that had seen too much too young would dance with childlike innocence. Those were the times when Peter longed to caress Nickie, usually finding an excuse to reach out and pat his arm or shoulder though, in truth, he only tortured himself with those almost impersonal touches.

"Any sign of Dr. Elder?"

"He's... indisposed right now. Guess you're going to have to handle this yourself, Johnson."

"Right," he replied with a weak smile before looking towards the bored assistants. "Bag him," he stated before turning back to Peter. "I'll hold off on the autopsy until Nickie's available."

"You might have to start without him." Peter looked at him askance. "But you can give me some preliminaries though, right? Time of death... approximately?"

"Between ten last night and five this morning."

"He was found only a little after five this morning."

"And he was already dead so..."

"Yeah," Peter sighed, "I get it. Cause of death?"

"He took a beating. Broken arm, nose, and various other contusions. Won't know more until I get him naked on the slab."

"Would you mind not putting it like that? It conjures up images I'd rather not have on an empty stomach."

"Oh... sorry."

Peter watched as the body was bagged and loaded into the Coroner's wagon. He turned and went in search of Kermit Griffin, who had drawn the short straw on this homicide and was already checking out the crime scene for any clues left behind along with the body.

"Anything?"

"Classic body dump." Kermit pushed the sunglasses firmly up his nose, "and all these police vehicles and last night's rain have obliterated any tracks left behind by the car that brought him here."

"So we have nothing but a body--"

"And a missing M.E."

"He's not missing. I found him."

Kermit grinned. "Don't tell me... He finally got lucky and you were too much of a friend to drag him out of a warm bed."

"Close."

"But no cigar?"

"No cigar."

"Hung over?"

Even though Peter could not see Kermit's eyes, he registered the slight change in the tilt of the man's mouth from lighthearted to serious. The man was too astute at times and knew something was amiss.

"Nickie was attacked last night... and badly beaten. My dad came to the rescue and is taking care of him right now."

"He catch the guy."

"No."

"Then why the look?"

Peter frowned, unsure if he was doing anyone any favors by his next words. "Pop said Nickie managed to smash the guy's nose, and my dad broke the man's arm. Sound familiar?"

"You think this guy is Nickie's attacker?" Although a question, it came out as more of a statement.

"It's a strange coincidence."

"I've learned there's no such thing."

"Then we'll just have to wait to see what Johnson digs up on this autopsy."

"And talking of digging. Where did the attack take place? Might be a place for us to start looking for the real crime scene."

"You don't think my father or Nickie--?"

"No. If your dad said the guy got away, then he got away. If this is the guy... then someone finished what he and Nickie started."

Peter nodded, knowing it made sense even though they would be playing a big hunch regarding this victim. What if he had nothing to do with the attack on Nickie?

"So... where are we headed first?" asked Kermit.

Peter scratched his chin, wishing he'd had time too shave this morning. "To the Royal Star hotel... and a convention full of doctors."

"Oh joy," drifted across an arid response as Kermit headed to his car while Peter turned back to his vehicle.

***

In daylight, Peter had no difficulty locating the scene of Nickie's attack. The shadows had retreated into corners hidden from the early morning light giving him and Kermit an easier task. Peter followed Kermit towards the back of the alley, noting the skewed position of the nearby dumpster and overturned trash cans. He saw Kermit pause by a large empty crate, seeing fragments of cloth and possibly dried blood caught on its rough surface. Peter checked the wall where splashes of blood had dried overnight, recalling Nickie's head injury. A few steps away were more splashes on the ground and Peter wondered if this belonged to the attacker, knowing blood would have poured from his nose when Nickie smashed it.

The signs of a scuffle were evident by the overturned trash cans and dislodged dumpster, which Kermit inspected carefully. No doubt, his father was responsible for most of the damage when confronting Nickie's attacker. A flick of his wrist, or the sweep of a leg could send an assailant flying with tremendous force but his father never aimed to kill unless he had no choice. Once he had dissuaded the man from further attacks, he had let him run away, turning his attention to the man's victim -- to Nickie.

What Peter could not understand was Nickie's refusal to go to a hospital. He asked that question aloud and saw Kermit turn away from the rough crate, his expression unreadable.

"He had his reasons."

"Yeah? Care to clue me in?"

"No... Not unless I have to." Kermit's gaze tightened further. "And you don't get to say when I have to," he added before Peter could respond.

Peter sighed heavily. "My dad said the guy ran off, and I see only one way out of this alley unless that guy had access to either one of these buildings."

Peter pushed against the door leading into the hotel finding it locked from the inside while Kermit tried the one other door leading into the alley from the other building. It was locked too.

"Guess we take a mugshot to both of these buildings in case our victim was an employee taking advantage of an opportunity."

Peter agreed, deciding that he needed to return to the station any way as he had yet to report back to Simms regarding Nickie. Yet, what could he say other than mention the possibility that Nickie was involved in the very murder that Simms wanted his expertise to work on? Kermit seemed to read his thoughts.

"The Captain will see it the same way as us. Nickie's no murderer, and neither is your dad. If this is the guy we found this morning then someone else got to him after your dad, and we need to figure out who... and fast."

***

Arriving back at the precinct, Peter barely managed to make it past the booking desk before he was called back. "Your dad's on line 1."

Peter nodded and snatched up the phone. "Pop?"

"Nickie is awake."

"Okay. I'll be heading over soon... and I need to speak to both of you."

"We will be here."

Peter put down the phone and yelled for Kermit. "We need that mugshot."

"On its way up now, courtesy of Johnson."

Peter walked over to him. "I want to head over to my dad's place as soon as you get it. We can take my car."

Kermit simply nodded and turned away, already busy with whatever task had captured him from the moment he set foot in the precinct. Both he and Peter were surprised when Johnson came up with the photo in person. His expression was deadly serious.

"Detective Caine, I need to speak to you urgently."

"I need to hear this too," Kermit added, walking up behind Peter. "How about we take this to Simms' office."

Johnson looked a little nervous. "I'm not sure--"

"I think I know what you've got to say, and both the captain and Detective Caine will need to hear it."

Johnson swallowed hard and followed them to the Captain's office, knocking and entering on her command. She raised both eyebrows and waited as Kermit shut the door securely behind them.

Before Johnson could speak, Kermit turned to him. "Your guy had sexually assaulted someone just prior to his death... and Nickie was raped."

"What?" Peter stared at Kermit in shock, "Where did that--?" but Kermit was looking at Johnson.

"Am I right?"

"I--I wouldn't know about--about Nickie," Johnson stammered. "But our victim had blood on his penis that wasn't his own so he could have sexually assaulted someone just prior to his death."

"That someone could be anyone, not necessarily Nickie. We don't even know if this was the same guy who attacked him."

"It is. I'm willing to bet a piece of torn material I found on the dumpster matches a tear in our victim's clothing."

"But that still doesn't prove he raped Nickie."

"What's going on?" Simms asked. "This to do with the body found this morning?"

"And our missing doc."

"Nickie was attacked?" She looked from Kermit to Peter. "When? How badly hurt?"

"Last night, just after ten... in the alley running down the side of the Royal Star Hotel. Blow to the head... cuts, bruises. My dad's taking care of him."

Kermit stepped forward. "Nickie wouldn't go to a hospital even though he was hurt. You've got to ask yourself why. What's he hiding? And no, I don't believe either he or your dad killed our guy... but someone did, and maybe this attack is part of the reason why."

***

Nickie awoke to the soft sound of oriental music and the scent of incense and medicinal herbs. He felt clean and dry, and warm and comfortable. He felt safe even though the unfamiliar surroundings ought to have had the opposite effect; he opened his eyes a fraction. The rustle of paper came from close by.

"Ah. You are awake. I will make you some tea."

Nickie opened his eyes the rest of the way and gazed blearily at the old Chinese man whom he recognized as the one Peter called the Ancient. The man pottered about the room and brought back a small handle-less cup filled almost to the brim with a pale golden liquid. Realizing that this was the tea, Nickie tried to sit up and hissed in discomfort. Memories of last evening came flooding back and he looked around the room in wide-eyed panic. Strong yet gentle hands gripped him tightly but as he stared into eyes filled with peace and wisdom, Nickie's fear slowly dropped away.

Safe. Safe, he thought in a silent mantra, slowly regaining control of his erratic breathing.

"Yes. You are safe here. You sip some tea now."

Nickie nodded and allowed the Ancient to settle him against the firm pillows before accepting the small cup. He took an experimental sip and offered a smile. "It's good. What is it? Jasmine? Chamomile?"

"It is an infusion of herbs and flowers."

Nickie whipped his head round at the new but familiar voice coming from the doorway, seeing Peter's father standing there. "I thought I dreamed..." He sat up straighter. "Thank you for... last night."

"You are welcome."

Nickie put the cup on the table beside the bed and started to push back the cover, "I should be going." He stopped when he realized that he was naked beneath it, suddenly even more confused as he could not recall undressing. Caine seemed to understand his confusion.

"You were in distress so I gave you a sleeping potion. I removed your torn clothing and tended to your injuries while you slept."

Nickie could think of nothing to say in response except, "Oh. Thank you."

"Again, you are welcome."

"But I should be going... to work. They'll be wondering where I am. I've never been late before."

"Peter is on his way."

Peter. Oh no, he thought. He could not let Peter know what had happened, wishing he had thought to extract a promise from Caine, last night, to keep this from his son. Once again, Caine seemed to know the thoughts crowding through Nickie's head.

"Peter came here earlier. He was looking for you, and he wished to know if I had seen you yesterday at the convention."

All his hopes of keeping news of his attack a secret faded, leaving only the tiniest glimmer of hope that Caine had not gone into any great detail, perhaps not even mentioning the rape. Before he could ask, he heard a familiar voice calling up from downstairs. Peter had arrived. Waiting in trepidation, Nickie stared at his hands, afraid of seeing disappointment in Peter's eyes. Even if Peter had no knowledge of the rape, he would know Nickie had been overpowered and beaten through his own stupidity. He should never have stopped inside the alley, and certainly not at night in an area where two robberies had already been reported.

"Nickie?"

He darted a glance towards the doorway, flinching back when Peter hurried across the room and sat down in the chair beside him. A gentle hand cupped his chin, pulling his face around, and Nickie could not resist meeting Peter's clear eyes. He relaxed slightly when he saw no censure or condemnation, only concern.

"Are you okay?"

"My face hurts."

"Yeah. Looks like you went ten rounds with Muhammad Ali," he smiled but it faded quickly as he took out the photo. "Nickie... I want you to look at a picture." Peter held up the photo given to him by Johnson. "Is this the man who attacked you?"

Nickie stared hard at the photo, eyes widening in horror though not solely through recognition of his attacker and rapist. The slack features and pale flesh of the man in the photo belonged to no living person. Of this, Nickie had no doubts as he had seen enough dead bodies to tell the difference. This photo had been taken in the morgue; in his morgue. He recognized the scratch on the stainless steel slab just to the right of the man's head.

"He's dead."

"A jogger found the body dumped in the park around five this morning. We're still waiting on Johnson to give us an exact time of death." Peter flicked a small smile. "I was here looking for you earlier. Johnson needed you."

Nickie looked up from the photo, only then spotting movement in the door and noticing Kermit Griffin leaning against the frame. Once spotted, he sauntered in, coming to a stop behind Peter.

"Is he the one?" he asked.

Nickie nodded, knowing there was little point in denying it for Peter would show the photo to his father next, and Caine would not lie. "Who is he?"

"We don't know... yet."

"But I'm a suspect."

"And so are you, Mr. Caine." Kermit had turned to Peter's father, offering a wry smile. "But I don't believe either of you did this... so what we have to do is find out what happened to this guy after you pulled him off the doc here."

"He did not run into the street," Caine offered.

"Then he must have used one of the back doors leading into the alley," remarked Peter.

"Yes... the one leading into the hotel."

"Then that's where we'll start tracking his last movements," stated Kermit. The detective stared at Nickie for a moment longer than necessary, eyes invisible behind the dark glasses and that made Nickie nervous as he suspected Kermit knew far more than he was letting on. Nickie saw the lips tighten. "Take it easy, Nickie." He turned to Peter. "I'll wait for you downstairs."

Nickie watched Kermit leave the room, followed by the Ancient. Caine made to leave too but not before placing his hand on Peter's shoulder and nodding wisely in response to whatever passed between them without the benefit of words. Nervously, Nickie pulled at the cover, drawing it further up his body to mid-chest. He wished he had the courage to look at Peter but, even before the rape, he had been afraid in case Peter recognized Nickie's feelings for him and turned away in disgust. Now, he was terrified of seeing disgust at having failed to protect himself, or marginally worse, he expected to see pity.

"Look at me," Peter ordered, and Nickie obeyed with reluctance, his eyes holding Peter's for a moment before sliding away but it must have been long enough for Peter to register something. A ragged sigh fell from Peter's lips. "It wasn't your fault, Nickie."

"It wasn't?"

"No."

Nickie did look at him this time, a rising sense of self-hatred overcoming any fear. "Then whose fault was it?"

"His."

"I gave him the opportunity."

"No... He *took* an opportunity." Peter's eyes took on a pain-filled look but no pity or disgust, and Nickie could not hold back the truth any longer.

"He raped me," Nickie whispered, looking away because he could not bear to see the change on Peter's face at that revelation.

"I know."

Nickie froze. "You do?"

"The evidence pointed at it. All I needed was confirmation from you."

Nickie sighed, knowing he had just given Peter that confirmation.

"It hope what happened hasn't changed how you feel about me? It hasn't changed how I feel about you. And once this homicide is solved, and you're back on your feet, then you and I need to go some place and talk."

"We do?" Nickie frowned in greater confusion as this was not going the way he expected. the words, 'how I feel about you', reverberated around Nickie's head, leading him to scarcely hope that meant what he thought it meant, that Peter reciprocated his feelings of need and desire for the other man.

"Yeah... we do."

***

Peter stared across the interrogation room desk at the beautiful woman seated opposite. He watched as she pulled a cigarette out of the packet and lit it, inhaling deeply and blowing the smoke out in one long stream. Maddie Grange used the street name of 'Angel', but prostitution was not her only racket. For the past week she had worked as an accomplice with her brother, Geordie, picking out a suitable victim from the wealthy doctors frequenting the convention, and its bar, and leading them into her brother's greedy hands. She offered up her victims' names but neither was familiar. These were neither of the two known robbery victims.

"So... how did you pick the victim?"

"Easy enough... just hung around in the hotel bar and attached myself to some poor unsuspecting schmuck. Played with them for a while, asked a few questions about their work and home life. A few drinks and a hand fondling their groin will get most men talking."

"Then what?" demanded Kermit, stepping back towards the table. He had spent the entire interview so far pacing back and forth across the room like a caged tiger but now he grew still.

She shrugged. "When I got them all good and hot, I'd whisper sweet nothings and mention going some place private for a little fun between the sheets. They would take me up to their room and while they were stripping, I'd go use the bathroom and unlock the door. Ten minutes later, they'd be banging me pretty good and in would come Geordie. A couple of clicks of the camera and they were caught in flagrante delicto."

"So you and your brother blackmailed them."

She took another drag of the cigarette and smiled up at Kermit.

"Please answer aloud for the tape," Kermit asked politely but his eyes held a hard edge.

"Yes... we asked for a large sum of money in exchange for those oh so incriminating photos."

"What happened last evening?" asked Peter.

She licked her lips seductively, pouting softly when this gained no response from either him or Kermit, before giving an exaggerated sigh. "I spotted an easy target in the bar. Made some small talk but..." She shrugged. "He was a nice guy. Cute and sweet, so it seemed a real shame to use him. Still, money's money, except he wasn't a doctor in one of those rich practices. Little creepy actually... worked on dead bodies."

Peter could not help looking to Kermit and seeing him come to the same conclusion. The cute doctor had to be Nickie. Kermit encouraged her to continue.

"So you led this guy on?"

"At first but.... He was too sweet... and there's not much money working for city hall so I ditched him." She leaned in. "Though, if I hadn't been working that night, I might have done him for free. He was cute." She grinned and winked at Peter who did not realize how much he had tensed up at her words until he felt Kermit's hand drop on his shoulder. He relaxed under the pressure of the fingers digging into him.

"So you checked around for another mark."

"That was the intention. I checked back in the bar an hour later just as cutie was leaving. Fortunately, I had to hide in the shadows otherwise I might have fallen into a little trouble. The mark from the previous night was in the bar. Asshole decided to use cutie for a little sport so I slipped back out and told Geordie to forget it that night."

"How did he take it?" asked Peter.

"He was a little miffed. Said he needed some money to tie him over that night and had planned to take a down payment from the next mark. He stormed off down towards the back entrance to have a smoke. Haven't seen him since."

"So that was the last time you saw him."

Her eyes lost the lazy, couldn't-care-less look and focused hard on Peter. "What's happened to Geordie?"

Kermit sank to the seat next to Peter. "I'm sorry, Miss Grange. We believe your brother was killed last night." He paused to give her a moment to let that sink in. "Would you be willing to identify the body?"

"My Geordie's dead?"

Peter could find not an ounce of sympathy within him as he looked at her stricken face. Her Geordie had beaten and raped Nickie. Her Geordie had planned to kill him, and might have done so if Peter's father had not been there to save Nickie.

"I'll accompany her."

Peter nodded his gratitude, knowing he would have an even harder time going into Nickie's domain and not seeing his friend there, yet aware the reason why lay on one of the steel mortuary tables. As the door clicked shut behind the others, Peter signed off the tape and sank into the welcome silence. He needed to consider all he had learned from Maddie Grange.

First, neither of the men she and her brother had blackmailed had gone to the police and, secondly, neither of the robbery victims was able to identify Geordie Grange as their attacker, though they could not rule him out either. On the other hand, Geordie had needed money and the robberies had taken place on different nights to those two blackmail attempts, where he had emptied the wallets of the targets chosen by his sister. Lastly, Geordie was guilty of at least one attempted robbery... of Nickie, so why not the other two robberies as well? Except the robber had not carried through with the threat of murder for his other victims, as Geordie had intended for Nickie.

Peter knew the two crimes could be unrelated and yet, it still seemed too much of a coincidence.

Images from the past flashed before him, recalling his early years in the temple and the incident with the eggs. Someone had stolen eggs from the kitchen while yet another had destroyed the nest of a bird in the courtyard beyond. Two crimes that seemed unrelated except for the coincidence that both involved the eggs of a bird. His father's words came flooding back to him.

"Sometimes, the simplest answer is the right answer."

Climbing the tree, Peter had looked into the damaged nest that had been placed back in the branches and he found the stolen eggs arranged within.

His thoughts came back to the present day and he recalled that Grange had taken Nickie's wallet, opening it to pull out any cash.

"His ID," Peter murmured. Grange had needed money but he chose the wrong victim. Inadvertently, he had chosen a man associated with the police department, someone who could--and would--identify him. Once Grange had decided to kill Nickie, he had no qualms about raping him first, either unaware or too stupid to realize that his DNA inside Nickie would lead the police to Nickie's killer... to him.

Still, none of this answered the question, who had killed Grange?

Again, the simplest answer might be the right one.

"Grange was injured after the fight with Pop," he mused aloud. "And here is a hotel full of doctors but he can't go to any doctor. He has to choose one that he has a hold over, to keep the man silent."

Peter grimaced as two names came to mind, the names supplied by Maddie Grange.

Within two hours, they had the murderer in custody. Dr. Ericsson confessed once confronted by the police, explaining how Grange had attempted to blackmail him after taking photos of him in an uncompromising position with a prostitute. The next evening, Grange had found him in the hotel bar and demanded that he fix his injuries, sustained during his fight with Peter's father, and Ericsson had used this as the perfect opportunity to get rid of his blackmailer.

Confirmation came two hours later when the result of the tox screening showed that death was caused by a massive, lethal injection. The additional evidence found by Kermit in Ericsson's car and in the hotel waste proved beyond a doubt that Ericsson had killed Grange, even without the confession.

Both Nickie and Peter's father were in the clear.

***

 **Two days later:**

Nickie smiled nervously as he waited downstairs for Peter to collect him. Both Lo Si and Kwai Chang Caine were seated in the lotus position on the floor at the center of the room, quietly watching him, making him feel like a bug under a microscope. For the past two days they had watched over him, refusing to allow him to do anything more than sit in a chair in a quiet room listening to Lo Si or Caine telling stories from Chinese legends or offering quiet reflections from Shaolin philosophy. Nickie had questions too, which were answered with amazing patience by both Shaolin, something most people had never had for him in the past, especially once those questions became a little personal. His peers and teachers had considered his openness a fault, edging away in embarrassment when he asked for and gave out personal details without prompting. Socially inept, had been one comment and, perhaps this was why he was better suited to working with dead people, because they did not find his remarks either naive or embarrassing.

Nickie had enjoyed the long, quiet hours spent with Caine and the Ancient, finding it all both comforting and fascinating. Better yet, Peter would join them whenever he could, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside Nickie, patting him leg from time to time in reassurance.

It took several of these 'sessions' before Nickie realized that this was the Shaolin equivalent of therapy. He had survived a traumatic ordeal and the Shaolin had treated not just the physical but the mental damage too, reassuring him of his worth as a human being and as a man. Without realizing it, he had acknowledged all his fears openly, and dealt with them for the most part.... which led him back to why he felt so nervous now.

He was leaving their care today, returning to his own world and, even though Peter had offered to take him home, Nickie was uncertain if he wanted to leave. An empty apartment waited for him across town and a morgue full of dead people waited for him at work. Three days ago, that sense of being alone in the world had been a dull ache deep inside but now he felt it keenly.

"Could I come back and visit you now and again?" He blurted out.

"Come sit and join us." Peter's father indicated to the empty space opposite him.

With a wary glance, Nickie made up his mind and moved across quickly, dropping down where indicated, with the incense sticks burning between them. He tried to put his legs into the same position as Caine's but gave up when he felt a twinge of pain from the recent attack, knowing his body would take a while longer to heal. Instead, he sat cross-legged, chewing nervously on his lower lip. He looked at the incense holder, momentarily mesmerized by the intricate filigree design.

"Is that a dragon?"

"Yes."

"Can I see it?"

"You may look." Caine's hand whipped out to grasp Nickie's wrist as he reached for the holder. "But not touch," he finished with a soft smile.

"Oh. Okay."

Nickie leaned in, tilting his head as far as he could so he could see the beautiful pattern, pulling back upright when Caine continued.

"It tells a story of a dragon and a beautiful maiden."

"Does she get eaten by the dragon?"

"No."

"Is it holding her hostage?"

"No."

"Perhaps--"

Caine raised his hand. "They are unlikely friends."

"Why?"

"The dragon saved the life--"

"Why unlikely?"

Caine canted his head, offering a pleased smile. "Because they come from two different worlds."

"Why should that make them unlikely friends?" Nickie frowned. "And if they're friends then does it matter where they came from?"

"To some it matters."

"Hmm... I suppose so." Nickie nodded slowly. If that was the case then he and Peter had become unlikely friends, coming from two different worlds. "Is this one of those self-sacrifice stories where the maiden throws herself into the dragon's fire breath to--"

"No, but that would be an interesting story."

Nickie whipped his head and upper body round as Peter's voice floating in from behind him. He started to scramble to his feet but Peter pushed a hand down on his shoulder and dropped down beside him.

"This is the story of two spirits from two different worlds who, together, become more than their single parts."

"Ahh... the whole is greater than the sum of the two parts."

Caine smiled. "Yes... that is the lesson."

"Yeah, though I didn't get that one as quickly as Nickie," Peter remarked, though Nickie wondered if he was recalling some lesson his father had tried to impart in the past.

"I, too, had trouble learning that lesson but I see the whole that is before me now." Caine's eyes encompassed both him and Nickie. "Time for you to leave."

Peter stood up quickly and offered his hand, bracing himself as he helped Nickie to his feet. Caine and Lo Si stood too, following them towards the door. Upon reaching the threshold, Nickie turned and smiled softly.

"Thank you."

Both Shaolin bowed but, as Nickie turned away, Caine called his name so he looked back. He watched in confusion as Caine removed the necklace Nickie had admired many months ago, the one given to Caine from the Dali Lama. Caine placed it over Nickie's head.

"This is... I can't..."

"It is a gift."

"I don't have anything to give you--"

"You already have."

"I have?"

Peter stepped forward and hugged his father. "Thanks, Pop."

Nickie barely noticed that Peter had taken his arm and was drawing him away, too awed by the beautiful necklace and the giver. Peter nudged him into the passenger seat and Nickie came back to his senses in time to wave goodbye before Peter pulled away. He must have been babbling because Peter started to chuckle softly. Only then did Nickie notice that they were not heading towards his apartment.

"Where're we going?"

"Home."

"Oh." Nickie sat back, wishing he could call the place where he lived, home, but he had never felt truly at peace there. He saw it as no refuge from the day to day grind of his life. If anything, it echoed his loneliness; cold and dark.

When he decided to start paying attention to the passing streets, he wondered whether this was some short cut out of this part of the city that he'd never considered before but Peter made no turns to send them heading back. Instead, he drew to a halt outside an apartment block in a better part of the city. Nickie followed him from the car and into the building.

"You live here?"

When Peter said he was taking him home, he thought he meant to *his* place rather than to Peter's.

Peter turned his key in the lock and pushed open the door to his apartment, stepping back so Nickie could enter first. Bright sunlight streamed along the short corridor, which opened up into a minimally furnished but comfortable room with a Chinese influence in the design of the furnishings. A large TV and music system stood central to the far wall, perfectly placed for balance and vision from a long, inviting couch. Everything about the room made Nickie feel free and easy, unlike the claustrophobia-inducing dinginess of his own rented apartment.

"Bedroom's at the end of the hall."

Nickie froze in confusion. "You only have the one bedroom," he stated, recalling a conversation months ago from when Peter spoke about his new apartment.

In response, Peter turned, stepping up to Nickie. He cradled Nickie's head in his hands and leaned in, kissing him softly, the tip of his tongue swiping over Nickie's suddenly ultra-sensitive lips. When Peter pulled back, Nickie felt the tingle as his own tongue traced a path across his lips.

"Do we need more than one bedroom?"

With his heart hammering in his chest, Nickie understood exactly what Peter was offering. "No," he whispered, his hands reaching up as Peter kissed him again, fingers carding through soft, dark hair as his lips parted to allow Peter full access. He moaned softly as Peter's tongue plunged into his mouth, possessing him deeply, learning every part of him before lazily battling with Nickie's tongue. Hands slipped from Nickie's hair to reach around his body, stroking the length of his back from shoulder blade to the swell of his ass before moving lower, cupping both cheeks and drawing their lower bodies firmly together. Nickie could feel the hard bulge of Peter's erection pressing against the evidence of his own arousal and he moaned again as he thrust gently, arching up as their mouths slid apart. Strong teeth nibbled against his throat, sucking and biting while Peter's fingers massaged the cheeks of Nickie's ass through his clothing.

"Think we need that bedroom now," Peter whispered hoarsely into Nickie's ear, sending shivers through Nickie as he followed up with a gentle swipe of his tongue curling into the shell of the ear before his teeth nipped at the lobe.

Peter pulled back, hand sliding down Nickie's arm until they were holding hands, fingers entwined. Walking backwards, he drew Nickie along the hallway and into the bedroom, never letting his eyes leave Nickie's. He kicked off his shoes, encouraging Nickie to do likewise as strong fingers worked on releasing Nickie's pants and drawing down his underwear. Nickie was naked by the time Peter nudged him backwards onto the bed, color heightening as Peter stared down at him hungrily, eyeing him from head to toe as if he was a feast set out before a starving man. Just as Nickie began to feel a little too vulnerable, Peter dragged off the rest of his own clothes and tumbled onto the bed beside Nickie, warms hands reaching out to stroke Nickie's naked flesh. They kissed again; light nibbles and licks that quickly deepened in strength and intensity while hands roamed with increased confidence.

Nickie flinched when a finger trailed between his ass cheeks, lightly scoring the flesh with a short fingernail before rimming the tight muscle. Peter did not back off but neither did he press inward, continuing to stroke over the hidden entrance until Nickie relaxed once more. Only then did Peter pull back a little.

"I want that... eventually. But not until you're ready."

Nickie bowed his head in relief. He wanted it too... but not today. Not when he still felt the discomfort from the small tears. Not while the memory of his rape was still so fresh in his mind despite all the 'sessions' he had attended.

"There's plenty we can still do together," Peter added, enforcing his words by wrapping his hand around Nickie's hard erection, stroking him from base to tip.

Nickie reciprocated, wrapping his fingers around Peter, drawing moans of pleasure from him as they slowly rocked and thrust towards an earth-shattering and completely satisfying climax. The silence of the room enfolded them in a cocoon of bliss, golden sunlight striping the bed and reflecting off naked, sweat-glistening flesh as Nickie sighed deeply. His erratic breathing slowed, fingers circling through the mix of spilled semen coating their bellies while the scent of their lovemaking filled the air.

"See... told you we only need the one bedroom," Peter grinned and, for the first time in his life, Nickie felt that knot of loneliness unravel from deep inside him.

He was home, at last.

THE END


End file.
